home again

We have beans! We had a few before. Now we have...a lot. These beans may end up on the evening news by the end of the summer. Two children crushed by massive falling bean pod, film at eleven. 

Here's a site that Mycroft showed me. He says it helps him concentrate at school. And at home when Sherlock's not in the flat. It's called Coffitivity and it plays the sounds of a coffee shop at you. I'm not quite sure whether I like it or not yet. 

I had a long and ridiculous argument with Murray this morning about whether it was rude of me to ask him to be my best man via text. He maintains it was. I maintain if we went around pointing out every time we were rude to each other we'd literally never do anything else. I also said I'd ask you lot - rude or no? He said yes anyway. 

pitch drop part 2 and invitations

Remember this post, where I talked about the pitch drop experiment? Well, it's dropped. Thanks to Pip for pointing it out in the comments, and you can read about it here or just stare at the gif below for far too long.

And wedding invitations! Time and place blacked out for obvious reasons, but we will tell you when it's going to happen. Just...not yet. 

They were both red initially and I was concerned it looked to much like blood. Sherlock thinks they don't look nearly enough like blood and at once point suggested they should actually be blood (no). They are our actual fingerprints though. I really like how they came out. And they've got magnets on the back so you can stick them to the fridge. Or anything else metal you would like to stick them to. 

The t-shirt making went well, and we watched Sherlock get his platinum award for...well, this is his comment from L's blog; I'll let him describe it:

I've done better than I even had to in everything like reading and maths and writing and also I was helpful and also I didn't have to go to the thinking corner more than three times all year.

He really has done amazingly well this year, and I'm so proud of him. 

heat, drugs, and flowers

We have ice in the shape of small flowers. Why? Well, remember when Sherlock and I went to Ikea and bought him a Sherlock-sized chair for his reading corner? They also had ice trays in the shape of various things. Sherlock would've preferred skulls or bones or bats, but was fascinated enough with the idea of ice in shapes that he settled for flowers (and another one, not pictured, that makes ice in long tubes). 

Work was mainly people who had taken too many drugs, had too much to drink, or been out in the heat for too long. Or all three at once. Took a blood sample as well, from a man who insisted it would clear him. I hope it will, and that he didn't do it - he seemed like a nice bloke, and what they were holding him for wasn't nice at all.

I think I got home a little before midnight. L had tea waiting for me. :) He had also removed the tie from his new shorts and was modeling them with a pink ribbon tied into a large bow in its place. Mycroft was looking tolerant and amused. I had one of those moments where I'm almost shocked by how lucky I am to live the life I do. 

did you know

Did you know there used to be a tradition of medical students posing with their cadavers? This is one of the more serious ones. I saw one with the students and cadaver playing cards...and another that had been made into a Christmas card to send to friends and family. 

And another 'did you know'...that some idiots are leaving their dogs locked in their cars with this heat? And that the police are allowed to break their windows to rescue the dogs? A broken window's the least of what they deserve, really. 

Since Sherlock learned that little fact, he's been on the lookout for dogs to rescue, and today... 

It was some sort of vastly unhappy terrier mix. Poor thing. Mycroft had some very strong words for the owner when he came out to complain about his window.

And lastly, L tells me I need to complain about the heat more and stop acting like I'm made of asbestos, so: it's hot. 

massive dragonfly

This dragonfly hitched a ride on my bike halfway across the city today. I thought he'd landed there and died, until I got where I was headed and tried to take a photo, when he of course immediately took off. I caught him (or identical twin) an hour later on this sign post, once I was done. 

Work was interesting, massive dragonflies aside. I saw an asthmatic who's being detained for murder and also got to take his dental impressions - which Sherlock is wild to see, just in case he can see some difference between normal teeth and murderers' teeth. He says he'll need a much larger sample size, so will I please bring home all dental impressions I make (no).

Also a drugs case where I was called in with the hope I'd get permission from a man to do what's rather delicately called an 'intimate search'. He eventually said he'd given it to his six year old son to hold, which is...I don't know what that is. I suppose it could've been worse. In several ways.

Anyway, I was happy to get home - to a lovely dinner cooked by all three of my boys. And now we're watching blood drip off of things at this link L found. 

courgettes and honeymoons

Items in the subject line are not related.

1. We have courgettes! Or at least we have flowers and possibly the very small beginnings of courgettes. I don't think I remembered that the plants got this large. Mum used to grow them, and I remember them as being big, but lots of things look big when you're seven.

2. I found out the origin of the word honeymoon today, or at least I heard a story explaining its origin. I'm not going to vouch for it being true, but it sounds plausible. Apparently the ancient Persians believed that honey was an aphrodisiac and they drank it, or possibly some sort of honey drink, for a month (moon) after they got married.

I also learned that the Aztecs thought avocados were an aphrodisiac on the theory that they were wrinkly and grew in pairs... 

i've met the met...

An understatment if I've ever heard one! L got me this at the park today. They were there handing them out, mostly to kids, but I like it. I've put it with the stickers Sherlock got us at Pride. 

We went swimming today. L and I demonstrated dives at Sherlock's request, multiple times, while he observed our form and technique...wait, I think I mean critiqued our form and technique. He did almost nothing but diving today himself - he's like that, goes flat out at what he wants to learn until he gets it. No diversions. He probably would've stayed until the pool closed if we'd let him. 

Mycroft spent most of the time reading or people watching. I was just sitting next to him, trying to get a decent amount of sunblock on my ears, and out of the blued he pointed out a young man across the pool and asked me if I thought it was odd that someone who wanted to join the Royal Navy was unable to swim. Took him a while to explain that one to me.

Anyway, good day. Especially after yesterday. L got home around two in the morning. I didn't wait up intentionally, but I was awake anyway and we talked for a while... I don't know. I'm glad the police there know the situation now, at least. Also glad that Danny didn't break the skin when he bit him. 

two good things

1. Murray won - barely, he was two sets down against Verdasco of all people, not that he's bad, just that he hasn't historically be this good at Wimbledon. Anyhow, Murray's through the semis.

2. Our rings arrived today! I waited (again, barely) until L got home to open the parcel, even with Sherlock circling it like a shark eyeing an unwary swimmer with a bleeding head wound. He doesn't like unopened parcels, even when he knows for a fact that they have nothing exciting inside, and of course this one had something very exciting inside. Mycroft was very helpful in distracting him, although I caught him eyeing the box too. We were all pleased when L got home.

They look amazing. Well. They look pretty plain, I suppose, compared to some. But I love them, and of course it's impossible to see them objectively. I see them for what they mean rather than what they are, and yeah...amazing. 

wimbledon

This morning started as usual - L went to work, I took Sherlock to school. Mycroft came along for the walk and seemed...unusually amused when I said I needed to do some serious cleaning that morning and he might want to shut himself in his room before I drafted him into helping. I found out why he was so amused when we got back home.

L was back as well, waiting for us...with Centre Court tickets to Wimbledon. I honestly don't know what I said. There may have been unseemly noises. And overly enthusiastic hugging.

The whole thing still seems unreal. We saw both Murray and Djokovic play - Murray won (good), Djokovic won (unfortunate). Also saw parts of a few matches out on the smaller courts, including Li Na's and Fernando Verdasco's, both of whom are going on to the quarterfinals (good! - in my opinion at least, especially Li Na). And we wandered about a lot and had strawberries and L was extremely patient while I told him basically everything I know about Wimbledon and tennis (don't worry, I don't expect you to remember it all; it was enough that you listened!).

It was just...amazing. And I am still overwhelmed and happy and so grateful to him and Mrs H both. 

mycroft, tennis, and turtles

Mycroft's coming home today! We're leaving to pick him up in a bit, although not as soon as Sherlock would like. He set all the clocks in the flat forward. I wondered why I was so tired when I got up at seven...it was actually five.

Here, have a baby two-headed turtle. Her name is Thelma and Louise, and apparently she's healthy and 'eating with both heads', which I imagine is a good thing? Sherlock wants one, needless to say.

I read this article the other day, Where Are Tennis's Young Guns?, and while I don't agree with it entirely, it does mesh with some thoughts I've been having. Maybe it's just me getting old, but I find myself wondering who I'll watch when the current crop of players retires - and by 'current', I don't mean those coming up now, because there doesn't seem to be anyone coming up now. I know you can't expect a Federer or Nadal in every generation, but there's no one who really stands out to me.

I don't know if it's the baseline play or slower courts or different equipment, but the play itself seems significantly less interesting than it did even ten years ago, and that's sad. 

indeterminate berries

Black raspberries? Blackberries? Someone's else's patch at the allotment. Sherlock is mad with jealousy because our pink blueberry bush has not yet formed one visible berry. We thought they were starting, but they haven't got anywhere and it's been weeks. 

I've been watching a lot of tennis. I was shocked when Rafa went out, of course, and...less shocked today when Federer went out. I wasn't expecting him to lose the match, but I suppose I was expecting something like this, at some point before the quarters. It's too bad. I hope it improves Murray's chances. 

I've been thinking a lot about work on Saturday night. The last man I saw was detained under the Mental Health Act, and shouldn't really have been there at all. But he was a bit drunk and...not violent exactly, but shouting, making gestures that could've been interpreted as threatening, which is why he was brought in. And why it was so hard to find anywhere for him to go. 

The hospitals didn't want him because he wasn't an emergency and was 'potentially violent' (I really don't think he was). No crisis team available. It was about two solid hours on the phone before I found someone who'd take him, and he would've spent the night in a cell otherwise, not getting the help he needed, and he hadn't done anything wrong. He was more scared than anything else. There ought to be a better way.  

whales and bodies

I'm stuck in a police station, so I thought I'd put a post together. I haven't been arrested (this isn't Egypt after all); they want me to look at someone else, but he hasn't been brought in yet. So I'm waiting. Have been for quite a while.

As L mentioned, we went to see the beached whale sculpture... I believe it's a sperm whale.

And we got a boat back... 

Sherlock kept a careful watch for corpses in the water the entire time. And was sure to mention it to everyone who asked what he was looking for so diligently. 

Pride and Mycroft's homecoming are both next week. Sherlock's started talking about giant sparkly bat wings to replace his old wings, along with face paint, capes, roller skates, hot air balloons... Basically all the things he also wants our wedding to include. The most reasonable is the chocolate fountain, and he's not going to win on that - L has strong feelings about low quality chocolate. 

The coffee here is really, truly horrible. Like a punishment from on high. Thou shalt drink swill until thine solve rates are up? Maybe they're hiding the good stuff and this is what they keep for visitors? 

Something's happening, got to go. 

this is murray

Hey this is Murray, Watson's making help him weed the allotment (what is my payment?? I DON'T WANT CHARD, jesus who wants chard??) so I'm stealing his phone and trying to do this post thing. Typing loads on this keyboard is not the easiest thing in the world and he's going to see me in a minute. I mean, I have a smart phone and all but I don't use it to write f***king novels on unlike some people. Do you want to know how lon g it took me to find the star key just then?

In case anyone cares about my life apart from my mum I have two job interviews coming up, one with a perfectly normal London hospital and one with 3C's boss because she called me out of the blue and told me to be at an address at a time and I think I should go because even Watson seems possibly genuinely a bit scared of her. Army still owns my soul for now oh shit he's seen me gotta post fast

rings

Last night, we bought wedding bands. I'm not sure which version that's linking to, but we got the platinum ones. I really like them - nice and simple. And the thing I like best about them is that we've actually bought them and they're on their way here. It makes it seem more real - even more so than picking the place, somehow, for me at least.

Mycroft approves. Sherlock thinks they should be more sparkly, but then he reconsidered, because we both have to wear gloves for work a lot, and sparkly things might rip the gloves. Very practical.

Today was lovely. Really peaceful. Nice long walk, lunch in the park, more than usually successful attempts to distract L from the paperwork he knows is piling up while he's away...

And here is some amazing origami:

friday and father's day

I got called out twice on Friday, just far enough apart to fall asleep between them (naturally). Drugs, extremely petty crime, and one very ill PC. I had to threaten to take her to A&E myself before she'd take me seriously and go home (if you're reading this, I will be calling you to check you've seen your doctor). Just like being back in the Army: keep going till you keel over...and then keep going. I do understand the attitude and it's not as if I don't have it myself in spades, but it's still frustrating in others.

Today is Father's Day. Mrs Holmes rang me this morning to say she's taking the boys to visit their father's grave. Mycroft's idea. Sherlock is anxious about it. We've been out to buy him flowers to take, and he's made a card - not for his father, but for Mycroft, because he said 'Mycroft is sadder about it' than he is. He really is incredibly kind and thoughtful sometimes.

Mrs Holmes should be here soon. I'm having lunch with L, and then maybe a run if the boys aren't back yet. And calling my own father. Probably. I did send him a card. 

sherlock wishes his skull could do this

It's made out of paper. Doesn't look like it though, does it? Sort of mind bending to watch.

Sherlock took the fox skull that L gave him into school today. I gather it was a big hit, although Mrs N did ask me afterwards if it was all right that he had it. Apparently Sherlock said it was from a crime scene, and she wanted to make sure that he hadn't been making off with evidence. One of the girls liked it a lot and promised to bring her mouse skull to show Sherlock. He seemed pleased and even said later that she might like to see his model human skull with the removable teeth (he miraculously still has all of them).

It's my second shift tonight, starting at seven. I don't know whether to hope for a quiet night or not, but, being Friday, I expect I'll get at least one call if not more. Following some of the advice in the comments (sort of), L and I have a logbook now that we're supposed to write in if we have to go out after Sherlock's asleep. Hopefully it'll make him feel more secure and only make us feel very slightly as if we're out after curfew and likely to get told off by our housemaster. 

on the road again

Sherlock is at school, L is not at work, and his bike is calling him so loudly I think even I can hear it. We're off soon for a nice long ride to nowhere in particular. Portchester Castle possibly? Pretty long ride, but I think we could manage. It looks nicely deserted in those pictures. I always think historic sites would be better viewed without everyone else viewing them with you - of course, everyone else is probably thinking the same thing. Anyway, we'll come up with something. Or we won't, and we'll just ride until we get somewhere, which is nice too.

Oh, and I did make the text smaller, if you're thinking that. It's not your imagination, or your eyes going. Although I had a fun time switching it back and forth really quickly while L reloaded the page to show me the bigger text...which suddenly wasn't there. He got back at me, don't worry.

I'm just killing time right now really. L's been in our room changing for so long I suspect he might want some help with that... I'd better go and check, right? 

giant jammy dodgers

Sherlock left me with strict instructions not to even think about eating any while he was at school today. He also took in pictures to show his classmates. Murray was over earlier and I had to divert him with a walk or there would've been none left. 

...Sorry, guys. I just don't seem to have any words today. I've been looking at this screen forever, and this is all there is. 

bike day, the third

Sherlock, L, and I went to pick up L's new bike today. It's very...shiny. And sleek. Obviously I am not jealous at all, no matter how new and nice looking it is, and how smooth to ride, and... Not jealous at all. And I still maintain that my bike is superior (for me).

We went to pick up Mycroft afterward, so he could ride it too, got a snack together, and delivered him to his school before his housemaster could start making disapproving faces. Good day.

Last night...was strange. I got a call out a little after eleven, went from that to another, and then got another when I was heading home. Home happened around three, I think, so all in all I wasn't even gone that long. It felt much longer and like no time at all.

In some ways, it was like being back in a war zone. A lot of differences, too, obviously, but that familiar sense of urgency, of things that need to be done right this second, the feeling of not a moment to lose. Different consequences, too, but still the same feeling.

The first and last were fairly straightforward drugs incidents, no overdoses, no one too badly off. The middle one was a man who'd had hot sauce thrown in his face, one of those hot sauces with dire warnings on the label. I hadn't seen that before. I think I can now definitively recommend against it. 

lettuce yesterday and lettuce tomorrow

Someone asked if anything was ready to eat in the allotment and I think I said no, but there is lettuce, sort of. Lettuce thinnings anyway. And cress and various other things.

Lettuces

That's the entire harvest though - not really enough for a salad even for one person, let along three. I'm sure L will find something delicious to do with it though. Just not tonight. I gather it was worse than usually busy at work, and Mrs Hudson made us chicken and potatoes, which was very nice (and nice of her). 

Tomorrow...my first shift. 7pm - 7am. I'm looking forward to it. 

forever and a day

It's been ages since my last post...by which I mean about five days, I think? Italy got the better of me. I don't think I did a single productive thing while we were there, unless you count eating. Which I do. It would've been incredibly remiss of us not to eat...just about everything on offer.

It was really lovely, if slightly confusing on both sides, meeting L's family. They were confused by us, our relationships (mine and L's, the boys and ours - the only one that really made sense to them was Sherlock and Mycroft, but that's not all that different from home). And Sherlock and I (mostly me, Sherlock to some extent) were confused by basically everything everyone said, because half the time L thought he was translating, he was actually just repeating what they'd said in Italian...

He's still speaking in Italian occasionally, and now that Mycroft's back at school, I've got no one to translate. I did learn a few new words though, most of which I would prefer to keep Sherlock ignorant of.

And...I didn't check my email at all for the last two days we were there. Came back to the news that I have my first shift this Friday. I'm looking forward to it.

And here, have some pictures.

frasassi caves

Today, we went to the Frasassi Caves. This is on the way there: 

And these are the caves:

You're not supposed to take pictures, so we didn't, but there are plenty online if you want to see more. It was... I don't know. Beautiful, of course. Astonishing, fascinating. But more than that, too. There's a feeling of stillness and age and time there that I've only rarely experienced before. 

On a sillier note, Harry sent me this picture:

We might need one... 

one year later

The anniversary of Red's death is coming up. We'll be in Italy for it, actually. I'm hoping to steal some time before we go to visit his grave with Murray and Spence. And hopefully L if he doesn't mind. 

I went back and read the entry I wrote after it happened. Honestly, it still doesn't seem real, even after the funeral, even after a year has passed. Sometimes I still expect to get some stupid text or email from him. I miss him. 

He would've hated this poem, which isn't saying much, since he hated most poetry, but it's... I don't know. It seems right today. 

i got the job

I was expecting to be told thank you and we'll let you know in a week or two. Instead it was thank you and when can you start. Bit of a shock. I told her after 2 June, and she looked harried, but I don't see how I can start sooner. We leave for Italy at the end of this week. Which is very, very soon I suddenly realise.

She said she'd email me some information, and I have things to sign, and I should know my first shift date before we get back, assuming we have wifi there, not sure about that.

Meanwhile, I have laundry. And packing. And cleaning. And...something to confirm for tomorrow. But for now, I get to meet L and tell him the good news in person. :)

PS: telepathic rats

cupcakes

L crunched himself into some odd position at work today, as you've probably seen in his comments. As a result, I took his (my) bike home, and Sherlock took him home...via cupcakes and pizza. He's just said they have 12 cupcakes. Probably of all different icing and cake combinations. I think they spent at least half an hour in the shop debating.

I went to work in the allotment for a bit today, watering and pulling weeds and so on. The French beans have grown enormously:

Nothing else was that impressive, so no pictures. I texted the beans to L, and he suggested they were giant mutant city-eating beans. If this were a film, each individual bean in its pod would be an egg and hatch into something face-eating and horrible, but since it's not I think we'll probably just have beans more quickly than I expected. (Note: not more quickly than other people expected; I just had no idea how fast beans grow.) 

My interview is Wednesday. I'm sure I won't know anything definite for some time afterward, but hopefully they won't take too long about it. I'm foolishly (and uselessly) nervous about it. Be glad when it's over. 

eurovision, cake, suits

This is the chocolate and peanut butter monstrosity L and Sherlock made for Jo and Lisa's Eurovision party tonight. Sherlock said I should help, so I stood nearby and ate bits of it when they weren't looking. I think that counts. (It's delicious.) The marshmallow coating is Sherlock's doing. He was sad we only had two colours. 

And we went suit shopping. With Sherlock. I always semi-expect him to be bored by clothes, but no. He has opinions and he wants to share them. I tried on many terrifying shirts today and bought one that I will probably never wear. It's not bad, really; it's just much brighter than I'm used to. I also got a couple that I will wear and a grey suit. 

Learned about this place from someone in the shop, which custom makes suits (and shirts) online. You send them your measurements, and they send you clothes that fit. Sounds like a brilliant idea to me. Except, of course, then I wouldn't be buying them with L, which is certainly a better experience than I've ever had buying them on my own. 

And soon we'll have cake to eat and Eurovision to mock. Hope you're all having a good day too. 

i don't have a good title for this

Yesterday was nice and quiet after the unfortunate excitement of L's bike accident. Quiet anyway - not so nice for him, obviously. The bruises are pretty spectacular, and the muscle strains don't show, but they're just as bad. 

Sherlock asked him about seven times yesterday when he was getting a new bike. We thought it was just excitement at the idea of something new and shiny, but he seemed more worried about it than anything. L talked it over with him while they looked at new ones online. Turns out Sherlock was worried about it because last time L didn't have his bike was when he got kidnapped. So. There was that. We talked to him about it - mostly L talked to him about it - and I hope he feels better now. 

(Lestrade, you know you can borrow mine until you can get a new one, right? Not that I think you're going to put off buying one...)

And the allotment is proceeding:

pitch drop

From this site:

In 1927 Professor Parnell heated a sample of pitch and poured it into a glass funnel with a sealed stem. Three years were allowed for the pitch to settle, and in 1930 the sealed stem was cut. From that date on the pitch has slowly dripped out of the funnel - so slowly that now, 83 years later, the ninth drop is only just forming.

Pitch appears solid at room temperature, the site says, or even brittle. It'll shatter if you hit it with a hammer. But it's actually flowing down...very, very slowly. What it doesn't say on the site is why Parnell decided on pitch for his experiment, which I'd be interested to know. There's a video which shows a year's worth of (non)movement:

And there's a live webcam at the site. The only thing you'll see moving is the clock and the people staring at the pitch to try to see it move. It's sort of fascinating - not watching it, that's pretty boring, but the concept and the fact that it's been going on for so long, and that no one's ever seen it drip. Apparently when it goes, it happens quite quickly, in about a tenth of a second...every ten to twelve years.

I showed this to Sherlock. He was initially interested in the solid-that's-actually-a-visco-elastic-polymer concept and watched the webcam for a few minutes.

Sherlock: What happens when the next drop falls?

Me: What do you mean what happens? It...falls.

Sherlock: But what happens? Does it explode?

Me: No...

Sherlock: Then why is everyone so excited about it? It's already happened eight times.

He may have a point there. I'll probably still check the site every now and then for video of the ninth drop though. 

small growing things

Here are some tiny things coming up in the allotment that may or may not be sorrel. We didn't label things as well as we could have. 

And bleeding heart, which we put in Saturday with Mycroft before we had to give him back to the school. It seems happy so far. 

Mycroft also told me I shouldn't keep abusing my phone's camera apps like this, but I'm  not listening. When I was about nine, our neighbour gave me his old camera, which was cheap and plastic and broke almost immediately (probably didn't help that I dropped it in a pond...a few times...) and it took pictures like this. Which is why the apps sell so well, I imagine. Nostalgia? Of course, fifty percent of mine were of Harry making a face because she'd got between the camera and whatever I was taking a picture of. 

On the job front, I have an interview coming up. Wish me luck. I feel like I might need a better suit. 

Oh, and Muray says to tell you that he's started the process of leaving the Army and should get his 'soul and free will back in roughly seventeen years'. By which he means a few months. 

happy birthday, Mycroft!

(Look, I even capitalised your name, even though I never capitalise my subject lines because...I have no reason. But I know it bothers you to be improperly lower-cased.)

Mycroft is fifteen today. 

Fifteen. 

15. 

That doesn't look like any smaller of a number no matter how I write it. It seems enormously older than 12, which isn't exactly an earth-shattering revelation, but I'm still astonished every time I think about it. 

Mycroft, you're growing up into a wonderful, kind, thoughtful young man, and it makes me proud to know you. Happy birthday, and I hope this is a good year for you. 

Actually, Mycroft probably won't see this at least until tomorrow - he's studying hard as I believe his exams begin next week. Astronomy? I think it's astronomy first. So there can't be any weekend birthday trips unfortunately, but we are stealing him away tonight for dinner and cake and whatever else he wants - hopefully some relaxation, since school must be pretty stressful right now. 'Something quiet' was his request via text a few hours ago. We'll do our best. Might have to go and pick him up before Sherlock gets out of school to accomplish that. 

Sherlock is planning to make him this massive cake that is essentially two enormous chocolate merengues with whipped cream and berries in the middle. He wants to make it 'all by myself but Lestrade can help', which is how he likes to do his cooking these days. 

-

Fridge art on the International Space Station: 

pic by Chris Hadfield, Canadian astronaut

worker bees

A multi-storied bee...dwelling. Made by architecture students in Buffalo, New York. There are more pictures here where you can see the outside, but I thought this one was the most interesting. 

Sherlock got very excited by this and asked if we could build one on the roof / at the allotment / in a park / on the roof of NSY (because 'they're not even using it for anything and the bees could see the fireworks from up there!'). I'm afraid normal beehives won't satisfy him now.

I just got an email from Dr Feelgood, coincidentally, about consulting a few years ago in a case where a man was stung to death by bees. He ended it with 'And that's when I moved to London'. 

Also in the email...I might have a job soon. One 12 hour shift a week to start with - I'd be on call, not necessarily working the whole time, obviously, but presumably there are days when you do work the full 12 hours, so I need to make sure L or Mrs Hudson will be available to look after Sherlock if I can't be. Need to make some calls, but...yeah. Could be starting soon. It's quite exciting.